


The Wallace to My Davis

by Cuda (Scylla)



Category: Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Supernatural, Superwho - Fandom, Superwood - Fandom, Torchwood
Genre: Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Harkstiel, M/M, Post-Series, Torchwood 5
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-02
Updated: 2014-12-02
Packaged: 2018-02-27 20:11:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2705066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scylla/pseuds/Cuda
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Part of the Harkstiel Holiday Advent. With Castiel at his side, Jack is busy rebuilding Torchwood in New York City. Problem is, when he recruited an Angel of the Lord to be his second, he had no idea what a monster he'd unleashed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Wallace to My Davis

**Author's Note:**

> White Christmas references abound. The most relevant bit is - Bob Wallace and Phil Davis are the protagonists of the movie. Bob's a solo performer, and has to be manipulated by Phil into working as a duet, later manipulated into producing shows, and then discovers he likes it. So much, in fact, that he's become a workaholic and Phil can't get any peace.
> 
> If you'd like to see where I imagine this Torchwood 5 HQ to be, [here you go](http://www.nyc-architecture.com/WBG/wbg025.htm). In OUR reality the building's being altered and renovated, some of it torn down to make way for a redevelopment project. But in theirs, it's still just as it is in these photographs.
> 
> There's also a tiny reference to _Torchwood: Exodus Code_. Jack befriended the crew of a scientific expedition on The Ice Maiden, and gave them a kernel of the Torchwood Software, which resulted in a Jarvis-like AI aboard the boat that they call "Shelley."

For once, Jack had a long, luxurious Thanksgiving weekend in the states with not a single crisis. The rest of the Brooklyn-based Torchwood team was… off doing whatever they did when they weren't here, which gave him plenty of time and flat surfaces to explore with Castiel.

He came upstairs early on Monday morning to an unhurried sunrise overlooking the East River, and a frosty December First. He could barely remember how it felt to wake up sore and used, but Jack supposed if he still could, he would at this moment. His mind certainly matched that feeling: smug, naughty amusement wrapped in a contented warm buzz. 

Castiel was busy far earlier than Jack, dialing up the heat in their working spaces, brewing coffee. He was dressed; Jack still (mostly) wasn't. He also showered, which Jack felt was an effort of supreme dedication on such a cold morning. Castiel pushed a mug of coffee at Jack with a slow kiss on one circuit of the room, and watching him, Jack felt a little bit like Danny Kaye in White Christmas. He'd released a monster when he agreed to found Torchwood again with Castiel at his side. The man liked the work and took to it with a passion Jack wished of most humans. Gwen would be jealous, and rightly so. In a few short years, Castiel adapted an old sugar factory into a new headquarters, helped Jack find and cultivate a new team, and organized recovery and transport projects to consolidate what was left of the Torchwood Archive.

To say he was addicted to the job was a hilarious understatement. Unfortunately, no convenient woman existed for Jack to push at him, and encourage a handful of kids. There were a few heavy tranquilizers he might turn to, Jack supposed, if he really wanted that forty-five minute massage.

"Springing into action a little early this morning, Halo," Jack laughed, bringing his coffee up for a sip. He'd neglected a shirt and opted to go a bit longer without it, for defiance. The low-tech calendar on the wall beside the doorway still showed November and a pair of sparrows on an autumn branch. Jack reached out to turn it.

Castiel didn't look up from the communications array along the far wall. "Our Cardiff recovery team gave us the green light a day early. They're ready to come home. I was confirming their tickets."

Jack joined him at the console, back to the display. "What's the haul?"

Castiel touched a few buttons, and a coded packing list appeared on the screen. "Engines," he reported, scanning the list, "Rear sideways propulsion units One and Two from the HMS Anne Boleyn, Year 5113."

"Never trust vehicles from odd-numbered years," Jack shook his head.

"I thought it was the even-numbered years," Castiel replied idly.

Jack shrugged. "What else?"

"A Starcruiser-class hydrogen engine, currently nonfunctioning. Two Za-ahn warship energy cores, each weighing about eighty pounds." He frowned. "For hand-sized things, they're unusually heavy."

"You should see the Za-ahn," Jack chuckled. Castiel rolled his eyes.

"One 'Atlantean… 'Puddlejumper,'" he pronounced the words as if unsure it was real, "Fully intact. All items are secured onboard the Ice Maiden, and I've confirmed with them. The bay will be free when they arrive."

"How is Cash, these days?" Jack asked casually.

"Muscular and difficult to comprehend, per usual," Castiel replied, "most of my communication was with Islia. And… Shelley?"

Jack nodded. "I'm glad they've got her. Since we lost the Hub, it's a little easier to share technology. At least the things we use every day." He didn't like sharing out anything so advanced, but he trusted Islia and the crew of the Ice Maiden. Having outposts would come in handy. He and Castiel were talking about a second unit, even, located in Los Angeles. All they needed were the right leaders.

Listen to him. Thanksgiving weekend just over and he was all business. "Castiel, you are the Wallace to my Davis."

"You should have listened to me," Castiel answered, stroking Jack's cheek before moving away from him to pick up the handheld console pad and shake it to life, "I wanted to open a ski lodge."


End file.
